


Paternal Duty

by TrishaCollins



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dad!Cor, Gen, Ish? It is discussed, MT Prompto Argentum, Post Rocks Eat People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-08 13:20:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18624073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishaCollins/pseuds/TrishaCollins
Summary: They're orphans, all of them. Not a father or mother between them. Bonds exist that demand that he do something about these kids. Cor has always been one to rise to the occasion.





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t hard to tell that the boys were hurting. Really, he just had to look at them to know. But they also weren’t talking to each other. 

Sure, Gladio and Prompto bent over backwards to make sure that Ignis didn’t trip on anything, and Ignis was ready with a sarcastic and biting comment every time they rescued him. But that was it.

There was no banter. He’d heard more chatter from his Glaive when he had them running laps around the city in the morning than these three, and it used to be impossible to get them to shut up about it. He listened to the debrief, glancing between them, already concerned.

“And Prom’s a nif, but we forgave him.” Gladio’s voice said.

Prompto flinched. 

“Excuse me?” 

Gladio shrugged. “He’s from Nifelheim originally.”

Prompto nodded without really moving his head, it was more of a full body bob. He watched the boy, wondering what exactly he had told them, and if they were adjusting their perceptions to it or assuming they understood. 

“Made there.” Ignis said, without much inflection. “Bred there at least, he is Lucian now. Even Noctis said so.”

Prompto drew a careful breath, working his hands on his lap.

Of the three of them, Gladio had been the most vocal, Ignis had spoken up when something needed more detail, and Prompto had been silent, a ghost. Pale in a way that had nothing to do with skin tone. He was wearing clothes that weren’t his – there probably hadn’t been much time to change and after a point it just became worthless. The cold weather gear he was wearing was probably rated for colder weather than anything he would have packed in Lucis. They had been planning for a southern trip, not one with snow. 

But, he noted, the clothes fit him well. Almost suspisiously well. As though they had been sized expressly for him. 

“Where did you go?” He asked Prompto directly. 

“Base busting, he said.” Gladio answered for him. 

“I asked Prompto.” He corrected. “Prompto?”

“I…” Prompto half straightened out of his slump, worrying his lip between his teeth. “Ended up at a Nif base, coupla MTs found me, guess they dragged me back.” 

“’Dragged you back’?” Gladio echoed, scoffing a bit.

Prompto flushed. “One of them…one of them said I was borderline hypothermic and needed to change. Stripped me down – really uncomfortable experience, I don’t recommend it – and put me through this thing. They explained, but I didn’t really….” Prompto drew a deep breath. “They were dragging back other MTs from the fight, whatever could move. The one that said I was hypothermic was treating them. I guess. If-“ He choked on something, less laughter more a small sob. “I mean…if you think…MTs need tending. We certainly killed enough of them. I guess I always assumed any injured ones were just…decommissioned”

“There’s nothing to kill. They’re just machines.” Gladio corrected, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. 

He frowned at him, and Gladio looked confused and a little hurt at the scolding. 

Another half laugh-half sob. “A-anyway. They fed me, got me new clothes, let me take a few pictures of them. Still had my camera. There were a few…uh…younger ones? I guess? They thought my camera was pretty neat. So they ended up taking some pictures of themselves.”

Gladio huffed, but didn’t say anything. 

“Stayed with them a few days.” Prompto drew an unsteady breath. “Figured. Well. Maybe you’d come back for me. But-but. The one who did all the checking over was worried that Superiors were going to come back, and so he outfitted me. Shooed me out. Worried that the k-the younger MTs would get punished for me being there, I guess.”

He nodded, looking at Gladio. “Do you understand what exactly Prompto told you?”

“That he was born in Nifelheim and they tattooed his arm.” Gladio answered, clearly irritated. 

Prompto was shaking his head, chewing on his lip.

Gladio looked even more irritated. “What, then?”

“I’m a…” Prompto’s voice went too quiet to hear, lips forming the words without a sound.

“What? Speak up.” 

“I…”

“He’s a clone. He wasn’t born. He was made.” He answered. “They picked him up because they recognized him, and whatever is left of their humanity without orders reacted to him.” He answered curtly, staring Gladio in the eyes as he said it. “The other MTs had children with them, and probably would have kept looking after him but they worried the bosses would view them harboring him – someone they probably knew was wanted – would harm the littler ones.” 

Prompto’s eyes filled with tears, hands clasping between his knees. “I killed him. Besithia. I shot him.”  
“Good.” 

Prompto was still talking, voice becoming a sob as he talked. “Killed him twice, before it took. Blew up the bases they were using to convert them, except in Gralea. Didn’t blow that one up. He was infecting them.”

“Hey, steady.” Gladio reached out and grasped his shoulder.

Prompto flinched away. 

Gladio had the grace to look ashamed of himself. 

“You did what you could for them, Prompto.” He said, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “You were very brave.”

Prompto mopped at his face. “I was….I was heading for Gralea. Had to destroy the last one. The last one that could…could turn them into….” His voice cracked. “I fucked up. Ardyn….got me, laughed at me. Told me I was a silly creature for trying.” 

“That’s how you ended up in chains.” Ignis said quietly. 

“I saw him turn them into…those…zombie things. Nothing left. Not even orders, just…pain. I could…he showed me. Said he could…me…” Prompto was staring at his wrist, bordering on hysterics. 

He reached forward and caught Prompto’s wrist, covering the mark with his hand. “He won’t and he can’t. There’s not enough of the blood in you.”

Prompto’s blue eyes locked with his. 

“Your eyes changed colors once it processed out of your system as a kid.” He told the boy levelly. “It will be the same for any of those away from Gralea.” 

“How do you….?” Gladio trailed off, staring at him.

Prompto was clutching at his hand, fingers tight on his, almost crushing. 

“I’ve watched you all your life to make sure there wasn’t something they could use to hurt you.” 

“Not Noct?” Prompto asked softly.

He shook his head. “No. Anything they could use to hurt you, Prompto. There’s nothing. We checked. Some left over conditioning that’s why you picked up guns and hand to hand so easily, but that is it. No kill switch, no backdoor. We made sure.” 

Prompto burst into sobs, doubling over, entire body shuddering with the force of the released panic. 

He put his hand on the kid’s shoulder, rubbing slow circles. “We can probably check on that base, see what can be retrived. If they’re willing to join us now that the supirors are all gone.”

Prompto nodded, still gasping a bit from the crying. “Y-yeah. I to-told LX I’d be back.” 

“Good. You’ve done what you can, Prompto.” He rubbed his shoulders, and gave Gladio a stern look. “All three of you need to take better care of each other.”

Gladio nodded, clearly unhappy that he couldn’t help.


	2. Chapter 2

He nodded approvingly at Prompto as the boy - young man - swiped them through security without seeming at all bothered by it, then fell into a cover position neat the door.

Gladio might not like it, but in these tight corridors Prompto's weapon was much more effective.

Kid had an eye like a hawk, too, as long as he was paying attention.

Gladio set in on the computer, accessing the files they needed. "It is pulling up a bunch of security logs."

"Of what?" Prompto asked, not looking away from the hall. 

"Of you. When did you learn to do that shit?" Gladio asked, double taking between whatever the screen was displaying and the kid.

"Oh." Prompto dropped a shoulder in a shrug. "I figured it out."

Gladio gaped at him, skimming his slight frame. "Where you keeping that power?"

"It isn't about power, it's about leverage. You can raw power break a bone, but it is really more about the position and where you're putting weight." Prompto said, still absent. "Drop, twist, put the Gs into the right place and you can crush a windpipe easily."

Gladio looked mildly disturbed. "Just like that?"

"Yeah. Less force and it's damned quiet too. I practiced with Ignis too you know." 

"Not breaking necks!" Gladio protested.

"Breaking other bones. He showed me how to knock my guns out of my hands!" Prompto adjusted his hand on his weapon, clearly more uncomfortable to than he was acting.

"Gladio." He cut in, keeping his voice mild. "Look for the information we're here for. We can discuss the rest later."

"But he-"

"Survived, and we are all very glad that he did. No more than you have done eoth your sword or ignis with his knives. No more than any Glaive or guard would do in protection of the crown."

Gladio's shoulders tensed, but he went back to his work.

He watched Prompto, who was still adjusting his grip on the gun and subtly using his elbow to wipe his face, jaw tense. There was a lot of information there, hurts that hadn't quite healed yet. 

Or maybe hadn't even started to close.

He would need to talk to them both later, Probably head Gladio off at the pass, to keep whatever Ill will was brewing from spilling over.

Had to keep them both alive, first last and foremost.

"You got this or do you need to step away moment?" He asked Prompto lowly.

The look prompto gave him told him something else, though his jaw snapped shut on whatever he had been about to snarl. "I got it." Was the answer, still bordering on surly and not happy.

Definitely head Gladio off before He talked to Prompto. The kid was likely to go off if Gladio really went from him, and he wasn't really betting on Gladio here. Clarus's kid or not, he had done some damage here and Prompto could do more with larger opponents than Gladio could with someone smaller and faster than He was.

That was if Prompto played fair and didn't take him out from sniping position. 

*~*

 

"I'll get water." Prompto volunteered before they'd even dropped their gear.

"Yeah ok." Gladio agreed before he could say anything, and the kid was gone.

"What is that about?" He asked, finishing his circle of the haven.

"Huh? Oh, him. He's been jumpy since he got back." Gladio shrugged, rolling out the tent.

"Nothing happened?" He probed. 

"Apparently the brat learned to break necks with his bare hands." Gladio muttered. "We didn't part of the best terms."

He 'hmmed', trying to keep it encouraging. It was clear to anyone with eyes that something f had happened between the boys.

"I got rough on Noctis. Prompto, too, because he kept making himself a target to take the heat off Noctis. I was…angry. After Altissa. Let my temper get the best of me.” Gladio said slowly. “Then he came back and he was one of them, and he was tough enough to handle himself. Haven’t seen him shed a tear except with you. I guess I haven’t been handling it well.”

“No, you haven’t.” He agreed, getting the fire started with a few easy motions of his hands. Havens were easy like that, not even spell work needed. Already laid in. 

Gladio grunted. “Nothing else to say?”

“I think you covered it admirably.” He tilted his head. “Have you told him that?” 

Gladio scoffed at that. 

“Or Ignis? Or Noctis?” 

A wince, but a slow shake of his head. “I never snapped at Ignis. It wasn’t his fault that any of that shit happened. Noctis was supposed to handle it, not Ignis.” 

“What was Prompto’s fault?” He asked, sharp.

“He wouldn’t shut up, and half the time he almost seemed to enjoy it. Like he welcomed it, even. I’d shove him and he’d bounce right back to be in my way. So I’d shove him again, maybe hit him a little. He was almost begging me for it.” Gladio shook his head roughly. “Giving me an outlet.”

And keeping him off Noctis while the prince was still healing. It was worse than he thought. “How far did you let it go?”

“He’s the one who came back.” Gladio protested. “Asked for it, even. Said he’d help me. That it’d help me relax.”

He narrowed his eyes. “How far did you let it go?” 

Gladio looked away.

“You’re a disgrace to your name and your title if you let it go that far.” Clarus would have said worse, but it was what he could manage, the low hiss of leashed fury. “Every citizen of Lucis. And your prince, foremost.”

“He’s not-“ 

He punched the words out of Gladio’s mouth before he could say them, before he’d even thought about the fight that would follow. 

“He’s a citizen of Lucis. *I* sponsored him, I screened him.” He snapped. 

Gladio was cradling his cheek, looking more confused than properly hurt. It hadn’t all penetrated yet. “So I pushed him around! So what!” 

“And he took it, and stayed between you and the Prince. He’s a better shield than you were.” The taunt was childish, but it had the desired effect. 

Gladio was on his feet and drawing his sword, leaping at him with a roar of fury. 

But he had taught Gladio how to use a sword, and he was calm. His anger was an old friend, a leashed foe within his heart. He knew it, he understood it, and he controlled it.

Glaido could not say the same. The wildness of his fury made him slopping and slow, and the grief he had been hiding crippled him.

Cor was an old friend to loss, knew how to make peace with the dead to allow them to move on. Gladio had lost only his mother, and not in any violent manner. 

The contact was brief, and the sound that Gladio made when he hit the ground suggested that he had broken something at least. 

“You will apologize you him.” He ordered, foot on his chest.

“Like hell I will!” the boy spat a glob of blood at him.

“If you continue on this path, you are no better than the daemons we hunt. A man does not abuse his comrades.” He stepped back, heading into the darkness after Prompto.

“Cor! Come back here! I’m not finished with you!” 

He ignored the shouts, the idiot would be safe enough so long as he stayed at the haven. He had someone else on his mind. 

He found blood and violence, and the kid he sought struggling with one of the Arachnids, his gun out of reach and her hide too thick for his knife to penetrate. 

When had Prompto started carrying a knife? 

A question for later, as he drew the creature away from her woozy prey, dispatching her as quickly as he could. Prompto had the pallor of someone infected, and he pealed back the jacket to look for the bite. “Steady. Stay with me. I need you awake enough to swallow the Elixir once I have the anti-venom in you.”

Prompto nodded, grasping at his wrist, barely lifting his head but trying to get a look at his stomach. 

He injected the antidote just above the purpling bite mark, and then coaxed the elixir into his patient. 

“You’re fine.” He promiced. “Can’t belive it got the jump on you.”

“Always forget to look up.” The kid joked, or at least tried to. 

“You heard us, huh?” He asked, helping Prompto sit up.

“Seems like forever ago. The train. I hated that thing.” Prompto leaned against his arm. “But we made it, huh? That’s what matter. Except, not all of us did.”

He reached out on impulse, running fingers through the short, spikey hair. He didn’t look much like Besithia. Not really at all, a bit in the jaw. But the eyes really threw it off entirely. Besithia looked through people, Prompto looked at them and invited them to look back. 

“I just thought…if I could keep Noct safe.” Prompto bit his lip. “I was always the weak link. Ignis and Gladio were both so cool. But I could keep Noct safe, I could keep him from getting hurt more.”

“Sounds like you did a hell of a job.” He gave the kid’s shoulder a squeeze. “Gladio was out of line. Far out of line if I am piecing things together correctly.” He gave him a look, but Prompto looked away. “You don’t need to talk to me about it. But I’d like you to talk to someone – Ignis, even, who knows how much of an idiot Gladio can be.”

Prompto shook his head. “So much has happened. Why even bring it up?” 

“Because even if other things happen, we build on the foundation of what came before.” He tapped Prompto’s breastbone with his knuckles gently. “Keep it all locked up and it erodes away at us, eats us until there is nothing left.”

“I asked for it. I wanted him to.” Prompto protested.

“You agreed to something to keep your prince safe. That is not the same as ‘asking’ for anything.” He pulled Prompto gently to his feet, brushing him off. “Let’s get back to the haven before anything else takes notice.” 

Prompto nodded, letting him leave, but looked pensive. 

Gladio was a sullen campmate and turned in early, refusing to speak to any of them. If Clarus’ boy thought he was going to win this argument by sulking like he was two again, he was more the fool for it. He made himself and Prompto tea and soup, toasting bread over the flame. 

It was not much, but he refused to let the night go without at least an attempt at a meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a turn I wasn't expecting! I have no idea if there will be more of this.


End file.
